These three tickets thus disposed of, Emmy Lou's own, and the three taken by Uncle Charlie for the rest of the household made a fairly creditable showing.
Albert Eddie had less luck. Maud, his sister, so he explained, had been ahead of him, and wherever he might have gone, she had been.
"Joe Kiffin, our driver, took one, though he won't go, and the other one I've sold is for myself."
He seemed worried. "I tried," he said. "I promised Sarah I'd try every time it was put up to me."
It was arranged that not only Rosalie but Hattie and Sadie should come and go with Emmy Lou. When they arrived, on the day, about five o'clock, each had her ticket and her money.
A lawn fête for the church is no unmercenary matter. Your ticket only admits you to the lantern-hung grounds, which is enough for you to expect, and once within you have to buy your supper. That it is paid for and eaten largely by those whose homes have donated it has nothing to do with the matter, Aunt Cordelia having been notified that her contribution would be beaten biscuit, a freezer of ice-cream and chickens.
In this case there must be carfare also, the Goodwins and their lawn being half an hour's ride by street car from the center of things.
Aunt Cordelia came to the door with Emmy Lou to meet the three. "Go ahead," she said. "Louise is already there and will look after you. Eat your suppers when you prefer. Charlie and I will come later and bring you home."
The four found Albert Eddie at the corner waiting for the car. His hair was very, very smooth, and his Sunday suit was spick and span as if Sarah were home to see to it instead of well on her way to England, her rules and regulations evidently being of a nature to stay by one.
Perhaps it was an ordeal for Albert Eddie to have four girls descend on him, for he turned red and cleared his throat as though forced into declaring himself in maintaining his ground. Emmy Lou was his friend, and ignoring the others he addressed her.